


Plug

by Valmouth



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Kink, M/M, Oh My God, Slash, Sounding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-08
Updated: 2012-05-08
Packaged: 2017-11-05 01:20:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/400341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valmouth/pseuds/Valmouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cam does not 'adorn' himself. He's also not gay. This thing with Teal'c dispels both notions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plug

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own no rights to these characters or to the TV show they are derived from. I mean no offence by this and make no money from it.
> 
> Warning: R- NC17 (explicit slash, sex, sex toys etc)

It starts when they go to ME1-DV4 on the trail of another fabled ZPM. They run into a kid two miles out of the village, and the kid takes them to his father’s house.

The man is a landowner, and his house is huge. He’s more than happy to welcome them to his thriving city on the banks of the planet’s only river. He feeds them and talks to them and asks- politely- whether he can help them.

They give him vague ideas of Ancient outposts and Ancient tech but the landowner reluctantly shakes his head.

“You will be right to ask the Mayor,” he says, and then curiously, “If I may, who is your leader?”

Cam gives him a little wave over his bowl of fried whatevers.

The landowner proceeds to stare at him sceptically.

“What?” Cam asks, sensing trouble.

“You are not adorned,” the landowner says simply.

It turns out that status is a display of wealth, and wealth is a sign of power. The landowner himself is dripping with jewellery and several layers of brightly coloured cloth. His eyes are painted and his hair is oiled and he smells of some kind of thick, flowery perfume. He seems to think Cam should be a little more dressed up to get the Mayor’s attention.

Cam puts his foot down and refuses.

He refuses to, one, smell like a flower shop, and two, start draping himself in chains and bracelets.

“Just a few,” the landowner pleads, “To show your status as our custom understands it.”

“We are not from your culture,” Daniel explains, “They’ll understand that, right?”

The landowner looks worried and sceptical, which the entirety of SG-1 has to know means no good.

In a move born of creative desperation Cam flips his dogtags out on display and declares that he’s adorned enough. He sure as hell isn’t changing out of his uniform, no matter how many ‘robes of glorious silk’ are presented to him, and he’s got nothing else to wear.

The landowner wrings his hands. “The Council may not wish to speak with lower status persons. Such dull appearance is for the peasants. They may disrespect you.”

“We’re soldiers,” Cam points out, “We don’t dress up on principle.”

“Even our warriors are suitably attired according to their bravery and their acclaim,” the landowner almost wails.

“In many cultures, the adornment of the body is a sign of privilege,” Teal’c says calmly, “Perhaps we should heed our host’s warnings and find a suitable compromise.

He is standing beside Cam with his hands clasped behind his back, looking like nothing is capable of surprising him anymore.

Cam glares at him.

“We would only borrow your jewellery,” Sam cautions the landowner, “We’ll bring it right back after we see the Mayor.”

“This would be acceptable,” the landowner beams, and has his servants bring up several wooden boxes stuffed with jewellery.

Cam groans and gives in to his fate. The next fifteen minutes are spent mediating between what he can comfortably wear and what he knows will give his father a heart attack. Also, he threatens to shoot anyone who wants to pierce him anywhere for any reason, especially after he finds a ring that looks reasonably okay. It’s just a plain solid silver ring and he holds it up and says, “That’s okay. Bit small, though. Is that for women?”

And their host wrinkles his brow in confusion and says, “No. That is for your manhood. If you want, we can prepare...”

“No!” Cam yelps, and drops the ring as if it’s burned him, “God, no.”

Daniel is definitely laughing, he decides.

There is a pin in there that he thinks could be put on his shirt or something, but when he takes it out, it’s only a small metal bar, rounded, barely as long as the distance from the tip of his little finger to its second knuckle. It has a large red stone set in one end but the other end is blunt. There’s no way it can be stabbed into any kind of material at all.

Cam vaguely imagines it in someone’s hair, though it seems too short even for that.

Teal’c gently removes the thing from his grasp and places it back in the box. “That will not suit our purposes,” Teal’c says.

Cam does not shiver from how close and low that voice sounds in his ear.

In the end he accepts a pair of wristbands that won’t get in the way if he has to move quick, and since the set has a circle of interlocking rings that sits warm against the hollow of his throat, he agrees to accept that as well.

“You will darken your eyes, yes?” the landowner asks hopefully.

“No,” Cam answers decisively.

“Maybe just a little,” Sam says, smiling like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.

Sam and Daniel are enjoying this. Cam knows. If their roles were reversed, he’d totally be mocking them. But it’s not and he hates this. It makes him feel self-conscious and he’s definitely not looking forward to typing this up in his report. Landry’s relatively easy-going but even the Air Force draws a line against painted up personnel with a jewellery fetish.

Cam’s never worn jewellery in his life and the cuffs feel weird.

A servant girl who looks about eighteen comes forward with a little pot of black paint and a thin-nibbed pen-thing and she traces the outline of his eyes before she brushes more ink on his eyelashes.

Her eyes are bright green, and they’re very close. Cam hasn’t seen Amy in two years, and hasn’t slept with a woman in months, and he tolerates what she’s doing to him only because she’s young and pretty and he enjoys the thrill of feeling her hand hold his face steady.

When he’s done, he feels like a clown.

“I feel like a clown,” he says.

“You look... very privileged,” Daniel says.

Cam eyes his team with no illusions as to their actual feelings on the matter. “Let’s just get this over with and then I can forget it ever happened,” he sighs.

The minute he emerges into public he feels like a freak. It doesn’t matter that this is the custom in this neck of the woods. It doesn’t matter that he’s not actually wearing some of the gaudier things he’s seeing on other people. It doesn’t even matter that this is probably going to be a complete waste of time and he’ll never have to come back and do it again.

He pushes his discomfort to the back of his mind but the cuffs are heavier than they first seemed, and as the minutes tick down he feels the weight of them press his wrists down time and time again.

His eyes feel clammy and gritty, and his skin is suddenly hypersensitive.

It’s the strangest he’s ever felt on a mission while not being in physical danger. The fact that he isn’t, at any point, put into physical danger is the only thing that mitigates his growing agitation.

He’s only too happy when the rumours prove to be false. Only too happy to race back to the landowner’s house, already pulling off the cuffs and rubbing at his eyes.

“Er,” Sam says, “Unless you want to get back home with the racoon look, I wouldn’t do that.”

“Huh?” Cam asks.

“Your mascara’s running,” Daniel kindly elaborates.

“Oh.”

Cam forces his hands down.

The servant girl with the beautiful green eyes unclasps the necklace and takes the cuffs back, and for the first time in an hour Cam breathes easy.

He can’t wait to get the hell out of there and he herds his team along at the fastest pace he can get away with without having to think up reasons.

Still, he catches a certain thoughtful look on Teal’c’s face, and he feels that level stare burning into his back.

Most days he ignores it. Some days he even enjoys it.

It’s not a thing; he’s worked himself to a point where it’s no big deal. He’s got a ton of innocent reasons for wanting to be the centre of such intense scrutiny- wants to prove his worth, wants to be worthy of interest, wants to have that close team bonding that was legendary when General O’Neill led this team.

Not that Cam aspires to be General O’Neill. He’s only met the General once or twice, and the man confuses him.

A lot of people confuse him at the SGC.

They get back through the ‘Gate with a minimum of fuss. Cam’s painfully aware of the mascara on his lashes and he keeps his head down until he makes it to the first water fountain along the way.

A crumpled tissue from Sam and a little water and he feels the last traces of his awkwardness vanish. By the time he’s straightened up, his shoulders have unlocked and the pressure’s off his back.

Sam and Teal’c have gone on ahead but Daniel’s hovering. It’s kind of nice.

Cam bins the tissue and rolls his neck.

“We weren’t actually laughing at you,” Daniel’s saying as they enter the locker room.

“Yeah,” Cam snorts, “Like I believe that.”

“No, seriously,” Daniel protests, “We were laughing _with_ you.”

“I wasn’t laughing,” Cam points out. He’s grinning, taking the joke with ease as he turns away, hands already pulling off his tac vest.

He catches the tail end of an odd look on Teal’c’s face as the Jaffa stands there momentarily motionless. Paused in the act of getting his field uniform off. Watching Cam. Intently.

Cam’s smile falters.

Teal’c doesn’t pretend to hide his sudden scrutiny. He just resumes what he was doing in the first place, and turns away when he looks into his locker to pull out a t-shirt.

Cam’s the one creating frantic diversions, Cam’s the one covering things up. Cam doesn’t even know what he’s covering up.

Vala’s back by that evening and her dramatic arrival on the scene is enough to give Cam a rest. She tries to hug him and he endures it, gently disentangling himself as soon as he can reasonably get away with it. His mother raised him right and he doesn’t like to hurt her feelings. Even if she does drive him insane.

All in all it’s been a weird day and Cam’s not getting younger. His hip aches and his eyes feel a little sore, and he finds himself rubbing his wrists as though the skin is just slightly bruised.

He elects to drive home that evening.

The house is near silent and the milk’s off. There’s a tin of baked beans and a packet of dried pasta in the cupboard, and he decides that culinary experimentation is a good way to spend the evening. Since he’s hungry, he’s got no reason not to eat it when it’s ready. It’s bland and tasteless but it’s not actually inedible.

He’s in the middle of his meal in a silent house when the doorbell rings. He’s never once considered ignoring it.

He’s not expecting Teal’c.

“Hey,” Cam says, and he tries to make it sound normal and easy. He stands back from the doorway and jerks his chin in invitation. “Come on in. What’s up?”

“I am not disturbing you?” Teal’c says. It’s a polite enough enquiry.

Cam shakes his head on a rueful laugh. “Nah. Was gonna see what’s on TV but I’ve got no special plans. You want to hang out?”

“Actually, I came to give you this,” Teal’c says simply, and he holds up a small, metal thing in his fingers.

Cam holds out his hand on instinct.

Teal’c lays the object on his palm and it’s that pin again. The one he’d picked up from the box on ME1-DV4.

Cam blinks at it, not sure what it’s supposed to be. “Er, thanks,” he says.

He fiddles with it, rubs his thumb over the thin, smooth, rounded shaft of it and squints at the dark red stone at the top.

And he tries to come up with something he can say about it. He wracks his brains, he really does, but he doesn’t know what to do with it and if Teal’c’s waiting for him to say, ‘hey, I always wanted one of these,’ the man’s going to be sorely disappointed.

Cam hates disappointing his team, especially when they do something nice for him. Hates disappointing a friend even more.

“Okay,” he says, “I gotta be honest. I have no idea where the hell this is supposed to go. It’s not a hair pin or anything, right?”

Teal’c’s eyebrows twitch upwards a little, but he’s still so calm, so collected.

It’s the face he wears on missions. Cam realises that just when Teal’c approaches him to pick the pin back up again.

“I noticed you look at this with interest,” Teal’c says, “I thought you might like it.”

“It’s great,” Cam says, “But like I said- I don’t know where it goes. I don’t really do jewellery.”

Teal’c looks from the pin between his fingers, to Cam. “No,” he says seriously, “You don’t.”

Cam stiffens.

In later days he’ll ask himself why. But at the time, he doesn’t question it. He lets himself be moved backwards to his own couch.

He lets himself be pushed back and down. And he doesn’t say anything when Teal’c drops to his knees in front of him. He does startle when strong dark hands reach for the waistband of his sweats.

“Teal’c?” he tries, but he gets no more than a glance before Teal’c focuses back on the task at hand.

He’s not really hard, though he is getting there. It’s difficult not to react when this is the stuff of dreams and fantasies. Stuff of nightmares, too, because Cam honestly has no idea what’s going on, and this isn’t something he’s allowed.

His brain’s racing in useless circles so he doesn’t see it coming until his cock is between Teal’c’s fingers, being angled up in a gentle grip. After that, with his cock in one of Teal’c’s hands and the pin in the other, even Cam’s brain knows where this is heading.

In later days he’ll find that it’s really quite common.

At the time, it’s simply the freakiest thing that’s ever happened to him.

He stares down, eyes wide and pupils blown, blood running south as Teal’c carefully, carefully starts to press the blunt end of that thin metal rod into the tip of his cock.

“Oh God,” Cam says weakly, and the bottom of his world falls out.

The sight is bad enough but the sensation is worse. It’s uncomfortable, though it doesn’t hurt, and he’s so terrified of all the ways it could go wrong but he can actually feel the coolness of the metal and nothing but a catheter has ever gone the hell in there.

“This stone is precious,” Teal’c says calmly, “It is found on only three planets that I know of, and it is dull and grey when it is mined. The stones must spend many days and nights in a furnace to reach this colour. It is a long process and some of the stones break. A stone this size is average, though when so few are in existence, average may be considered a relative term.”

Cam whimpers when the pin bottoms out.

Teal’c takes one hand away and changes his grip slightly so the head of Cam’s rapidly growing cock is exposed to both their gazes.

The stone is big enough to cover the tip completely. Its dark red stone set in bright metal looks lewd and suggestive.

And Cam’s heart is picking up speed, his blood is already racing- what little of it isn’t trying to give him the erection of his life.

The hypersensitivity is back a hundredfold and this time his skin feels like it’s actually crawling. Every cell exposed to the air is aching hot and cold at the same time and he struggles against the phantom weight of the cuffs and the cool metal at the base of his throat. He knows logically that they’re gone but he can still feel them if he really thinks about it.

If he really looks at that stone and sees it, with Teal’c’s fingers still holding his dick. Presenting it. Showing it off.

“Christ,” Cam blasphemes, and shifts desperately on the couch, suddenly pulling away and reaching down.

To get away from Teal’c, to touch himself, to examine the difference between the stone and his own hot skin.

“Colonel Mitchell?”

“For fuck’s sake,” he rasps, looking up to catch Teal’c’s eye, “If you’re going to stick things in my dick, you’d better call me Cam.”

Teal’c’s eyes are just as dark. Thickly drawn around the lids as if some servant girl’s been at his eyes with a mascara wand.

Cam doesn’t know, doesn’t care. He wants. He’s aching. And he can still feel the long-short shaft of the pin in his urethra.

Teal’c’s fingers are long and hard, the pads of his fingertips calloused, but he strokes gentle and sweet with slow pulls and little touches just under the head and Cam moans and bucks, naked and falling apart on the couch as he watches, watches, and wonders wildly which rabbit hole he fell into when he stepped through the stargate.

Teal’c takes the pin out when he has Cam right where he wants him, and the feeling of that long metal shaft dragging back out yanks a noise from Cam’s throat that’s dirty and low and shameless.

They don’t do blowjobs that day.

In later days, Cam will research it and find out that the little pin is actually a penis plug. It’s pretty common. And the plug is smaller than some of the other designs on the internet.

He shuts down the search when his skin starts to crawl again and he scrubs his search history and runs a virus scan, as if that will get the images out of his brain.

It won’t. He knows that. He still manages to go into work and look his team in the eye. He can talk to Teal’c like he normally does, but when it comes time to spar, he can’t do it. It’s the only boundary he sets.

Jackson gives him a bit of a confused look but Teal’c accepts his pathetic excuse like it’s perfectly reasonable.

And then he turns up at Cam’s door in the evening, when Cam is expecting him, and Cam flushes and bites his bottom lip as Teal’c pushes his sweatpants low enough to see that Cam is actually wearing the plug.

Teal’c doesn’t touch it, doesn’t touch him, just looks and looks and then pulls his pants back up and asks for a beer.

They don’t have sex, but Cam is a raging ball of arousal as he tries- and fails- to pretend that nothing strange is going on. That they’re just two old friends having a drink and hanging out together. Teal’c doesn’t respond to his nerves and his neuroses, and when Teal’c leaves, Cam goes straight to bed and strokes himself, trembling on the edge of arousal while he fights the weirdest conflict between pulling the plug out to come and leaving it in to admire.

The insanity lasts for two intense weeks and then Teal’c goes back to his people as is his duty.

Cam wakes up and deliberately tosses the plug on his bathroom counter into a drawer. Now that Teal’c’s away, he’s not sure what they were doing, but he knows he has no clue what to think about it.

He persuades himself that it’s just one of those things.

The thing is, Cam is not gay. He’s settled this in his mind. He has no wish to ‘adorn’ himself because some hot guy thinks a precious stone on his cockhead is the latest fashion accessory. The fact that he’s let it get this far is, he believes, a testament to how fucked-up that famous close team bonding can get.

He takes a moment to really look at the rest of his team, first day back with Teal’c absent. They have no missions planned, no reason to really hang out together. And they don’t, not really. They just all end up in the mess hall for lunch. Sam’s already there when Cam walks in and Daniel and Vala follow on not five minutes later.

They bitch about the food and rib each other about stupid stuff.

Cam mostly stays quiet and watches them. Tries to see if he could end up doing shit with any other member of his team or if he should be worried.

He decides he should be worried. Sam and Vala are clearly easy on the eyes and he does like women, but he feels about as much attraction to them as he feels for the beef on his plate. Which is not to say in the right circumstances he couldn’t feel a little bit different, but no. Generally speaking no.

And in Sam’s case, he’s pretty sure there’s a General speaking somewhere.

And Jackson, well, Daniel is... Daniel. Cam shoots hoops with him, and talks Earth/ guy stuff with him. He thinks of Daniel’s fingers on his dick and his brain spits out a very definite ‘does not compute’ at him.

He has to cough and hide his head in his hands.

“You okay?” Sam asks.

“Fine,” he mumbles into his sweating palms.

He distracts himself for the next three days, and he gets Walter to assign him a room on-base so he can catch up on paperwork. He volunteers for a recon trip off-world with another team, and, when he’s finally got the time and the energy, he goes out to get laid.

It is ironic in the extreme that, in a military town, Cam ends up with another man in a back alley, rutting desperately with his back against grimy brick.

It’s been a long time since he’s done this- not since college- and he doesn’t want this. Doesn’t need it. Is only drawn to it by circumstances and influences that he’s let himself fall prey to. This isn’t what he does.

But, God, it feels so good!

Cam thumps his head back against the hard, rough brick and he groans loud as fuck when he comes, some guy’s mouth wrapped around his dick, the sensation just a bit off with the rubber between them.

He offers a hand and then stiffens in shock when the guy bats it away, yanks his pants down, and fits himself in the tight crease where Cam’s inner thigh meets his torso.

“Keep it tight,” the guy grunts, “Yeah, baby, just like that. Oh hell, yeah...”

And Cam stands there, bemused, turning his eyes away and riding the little aftershocks as his sensitive cock rubs up against the guy’s hip.

This, too, he finds out is pretty normal. Nothing kinky about it that he can find.

And it’s better than getting fucked proper anyway.

Cam zips up and adjusts and goes home to take a long, hot shower. He tries to wash away all traces but it’s no use. The only way he finds to keep a lid on his hysteria is to go to sleep.

So he does. He sleeps for the rest of the weekend, and talks to no one.

When it’s time for work he tries to run himself into the ground. And that’s not necessarily hard. He’s still training pilots on the F302s, he’s still involved in R & D for more ships. He volunteers for things he probably shouldn’t but they don’t kill him, so he’s okay with that. He gets to shoot things a couple of times, which he is very okay with.

If anyone thinks there’s anything wrong with the way he’s acting, they don’t say.

It isn’t really so difficult after a few days. There is no summons to Landry’s office so he presumes that he hasn’t been caught. Everything feels fine so long as he doesn’t think about it.

Teal’c is due back in another week.

Cam gets notification of that along with a pile of reports on various worlds that SG-1 is qualified to visit. It’s part of Cam’s job to sift through the pile. It’s also Cam’s job to choose the most frustrating, dangerous, unsubstantiated rumours that exist in that pile. Because, as Daniel says, if it’s going to kill anyone, at least SG-1’s had some practise at staying alive.

So he is entirely unprepared to have his doorbell ring at seven in the evening.

The thing is, he knows who it is. And he knows what will happen.

He’s never once contemplated not answering his door but this time he freezes. The plug’s in his bedside drawer and Teal’c’s on his doorstep.

If he doesn’t open the door, Teal’c will go away. Cam’s career will be safe- his sanity will be safe- and maybe they’ll pretend that nothing happened, if only to protect the team.

Cam opens the door.

There are a thousand things he can say, and he does try to keep it light- play the part- but even he can hear how strained his voice is. He can feel his palms sweat, the hot flush followed by a cold shiver that makes his skin crawl in that aching, painful way.

And Teal’c knows.

Cam knows and Teal’c knows, and Teal’c is kind enough to play along.

He says ‘hello’ and refuses a beer and sits down on Cam’s couch, all bunched muscle and sleek, dark skin.

Cam hovers before he sits down.

They talk, though Cam has no idea what he’s saying, and the want grows so hard he can taste it at the back of his throat. He thinks he may be going crazy and his life is over.

And then Teal’c leans forward and places something down on the table in front of them.

Cam’s chest squeezes tight.

It’s a sort of ring. Metal. In the shape of a coiled snake.

He almost feels safe again until he notices the tail. That long, stiff tail held straight down and almost as long as the distance from the tip of his little finger to the second knuckle.

“Great,” he says. The dam burst for just long enough that he can say, “Just fucking great,” and sound really angry, really amused that this is what his life has become.

“You do not like it,” Teal’c observes.

“This whole thing,” Cam snaps, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I don’t do this. I don’t.”

“Very well. You appeared interested in the other plug. Is it the design you object to?”

“What, the snake that you want to shove down my dick? Oh no, that’s the tasteful part!”

“I sense you are angry.”

“This is not what I do,” Cam repeats, “I’m not gay.”

Teal’c inclines his head slightly. “Indeed.”

Cam wants to hit something. He really does. But the anger is gone as suddenly as it’s arrived, and the new plug is still sitting there. He can’t stop staring at it.

He can’t help wondering what it will feel like, with all those tiny sculpted scales.

It looks good. Old.

“Why don’t you wear it,” he asks, going quiet again, “If you like that kind of stuff.”

“I have no opinion either way,” Teal’c answers.

“Then why me?”

“If you do not like it, I can stop.”

Cam swallows. There’s a clear, bright stone chip set as an eye in the snake’s head. It catches the overhead light and he imagines what that will look like against his skin. Especially when he’s aroused.

He’s already half there.

Teal’c leans forward to pick up the plug.

Cam knows his eyes are following. Knows that he feels a little bit defeated, a lot resentful.

He was expecting Teal’c. He wasn’t expecting to want this.

“Perhaps,” Teal’c says, “You do not want to participate in this with me.”

Cam snorts.

Teal’c raises his brows. “You find this funny, Cam.”

“I find it hilarious.”

Teal’c doesn’t answer.

Cam breathes in hard and out slow.

“So, you’re saying _you_ want to participate in this,” he asks, “With me?”

It’s dangerous to ask that question. Teal’c works with him, is on his team. Cam’s in danger of breaking every discharge-worthy fraternization law there is. He’s broken them several times already but if he breaks them now there’s no going back. He can’t imagine going back.

Teal’c says, “Your military does not approve of my answer being ‘yes’.”

“My military isn’t asking,” Cam points out.

“Then my answer is ‘yes’.”

“Right.” Cam shifts on the couch and he can feel the rough, thick fabric drag at his jeans and his shirt. He can feel it against the skin of his arms, his elbows, the strip of skin between his jeans and his t-shirt.

“Fuck it,” Cam says. 

And he gives in.

This time, when Teal’c kneels on the floor between his knees, Cam lifts his hips. Cam unbuttons his jeans and slides them down. He would have taken them off but Teal’c stops him, implacable and unmovable and Cam’s fingers are already unsteady enough. He subsides with nothing more than a frustrated grunt and then a bitten back sigh when Teal’c’s fingers touch his dick.

He’s trying to will himself not to get hard but it’s impossible. For several reasons, really, and the fact that it’s a man between his legs is only one of them. The fact that it’s Teal’c is another- a major- reason. The thought of what Teal’c is about to do to him, the vague idea of what Teal’c could do and might do and can do, is enough to short-circuit his synapses.

Teal’c’s fingers are impossibly warm and Cam is waiting for the shock of cold metal that doesn’t come.

The metal snake is also warm, a barely there feeling. If Cam doesn’t look it’s just light pressure.

But he is looking. So he can see the scales press under the head, can see the tail disappear into that small, private slit at the tip.

He can see it, and that is more than everything else.

It isn’t the same as the first time, and Cam does regret that. He isn’t caught up in it, isn’t overwhelmed by it. A part of him watches it and remains perfectly detached, clinical, wondering about the practicalities of infection and how to stop this interfering with the team dynamic. A part of him is already creating cover stories.

Teal’c sits back when the plug is fully inserted, and Cam sits up, bats Teal’c’s hands away.

His cock is flushed and heavy, more than half-hard but not quite at full arousal. And the snake curls around his skin like it’s alive, the tiny bright chip of an eye catching the overhead light as he angles for a better view.

He can just feel the tail, an odd sort of tightness pressing into him.

“So,” he says, and even he can hear how wrecked he sounds, “How does it look?”

Teal’c doesn’t answer him. But he reaches out with a careful forefinger to trace the curve of the snake.

Cam thinks of the snake in the Garden of Eden and he’s pretty sure his grandma didn’t mean it like this.

He pushes aside all thoughts of his family- his life, his career, the people who would never believe it and couldn’t understand it- and he concentrates. On the plug, on Teal’c, on how it feels. Concentrates hard and loses himself in the heaviness of his own limbs.

Teal’c’s fingers twist the ring unexpectedly and Cam whimpers.

Pushes the heel of his foot hard against the floor, throws his head back against the couch, and forces himself to stay still. Shuts his eyes. Feels the flush of heat throb low in his belly.

If he thinks hard enough, he can see himself as he appears- his legs spread wide and obscene, his dick on display. Literally. Dressed up and on show for a guy, a man who’s supposed to be a friend and a team member.

Not supposed to want him, not supposed to want to show him this, but then that’s the point. That is what gets Cam the rest of the way to hard.

He’s the one who pulls out the plug when that happens, fingers broad and blunt and clumsy. Nothing like Teal’c’s careful touches but then Teal’c is still watching him do this. Staring.

He’s the one who takes the plug out but Teal’c is the one who leans in, his hands hard on Cam’s thighs.

The detached part of Cam’s brain thinks that he would never have believed this. Not even a day ago he would never have imagined it.

And yet, he thinks. Yet.

Teal’c sucks him hard and dirty and Cam comes so quick he sees stars.

When he’s come back to his senses enough for basic motor coordination, he struggles off the couch, less than graceful with his jeans and his underwear around his knees, but Teal’c doesn’t seem to notice.

For the first time in the last twenty minutes Teal’c is looking at his face, and Cam manages not to blush at all as he gets one hand down Teal’c’s pants and the other on Teal’c’s shoulder.

The angle’s wrong.

Teal’c doesn’t seem to mind. He breathes hard, head dropped forward, and Cam is captivated by the movement of his hips, all tiny jerking thrusts. A full body shudder leaves Cam with sticky fingers and the uncomfortable task of pulling his hand out of a friend’s pants.

It is the first time since college, but Cam remembers the rules.

Don’t make eye contact. If talking is necessary, keep it simple. No jokes, no names, nothing to make it personal.

Teal’c grimaces uncomfortably so Cam gestures to the bathroom.

“Get cleaned up,” he says shortly.

He makes do with tissues and water and by the time Teal’c is back, Cam’s fully dressed and leaning against the kitchen counter.

The plug is sitting conspicuously on the counter beside his empty glass and the bottle of scotch.

“If you do not want this, now is the time to tell me,” Teal’c says.

Cam shifts slightly. “You tell no one,” he answers, “This does not affect the job, or the team.”

“That is acceptable.”

“It’s just a thing,” Cam says.

He has the satisfaction of seeing Teal’c look mildly confused, brows pulling together and eyes narrowing, but then Teal’c seems to give a mental shrug.

“Indeed.”

Cam snorts. “Means it’s not serious. I don’t... do this shit. It’s just convenient. Something better comes along, we move on. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

It’s a deal with the devil, as Cam remembers from the first and last time this happened, way back when he was in college. But he tells himself that he was young and stupid then, that things have changed. He has changed. He knows how this goes.

He doesn’t stop to wonder if Teal’c knows how it goes until the day that Teal’c turns up with another gift.

“Remove your shirt,” Teal’c says.

 “Why?” Cam asks.

Teal’c gives him a mild look of inscrutable purpose.

Cam takes his shirt off.

The armband is metal- silver- and heavy. Teal’c’s deft fingers tighten it around Cam’s right bicep, and Cam idly watches them work, his left arm loose by his side and his right slightly offered.

Teal’c’s fingers are dark and long, just the right side of thick, and Cam hasn’t been on the receiving end of a proper fucking since way back when he was trying to survive college.

He’s already wearing the snake plug. It’s rapidly becoming his favourite of the two he has, and he knows why though he won’t admit it, not even to himself.

When Teal’c is done, Cam surprises the both of them by kicking off his jeans and underwear, too.

He knows Teal’c is surprised because he is allowed to see that expression, Teal’c’s eyes going unerringly to his dick. It’s currently soft and just hanging there, not doing much, but Cam forces himself to stand still. Doesn’t cover himself up, not like he really wants to.

The cold, detached part of him knows that what he’s doing is completely screwed-up but there’s just something about the way Teal’c looks at him.

And Cam’s all dressed up, really. Why hide it? This is, after all, what he wants Teal’c to see.

They end up in his bed for the first time that night, and Cam ignores every cold shiver that runs down his spine as he reaches out for Teal’c’s shirt. It’s the first time Teal’c’s got naked and Cam tells himself that physically it’s all the same old stuff he’s seen in locker rooms and med units and crappy missions gone wrong.

And he’s right. It’s just that he’s also totally, completely wrong.

Teal’c is Teal’c. And Cam tries not to gawk like a tourist at all that hard, sleek muscle. Soft skin, he thinks dazedly, and so little body hair. A thick, heavy cock already hard and leaking and Cam knows that’s for him, for the sight he makes.

“Is there a rule for this I should know?” Teal’c asks.

“Yeah,” Cam says, “Don’t say anything.”

So Teal’c doesn’t make a sound, not even when Cam’s going down on Teal’c’s cock.

That Teal’c is enjoying it is no big secret. The guy’s thighs are trembling and Cam can feel the little flutters of quaking muscle in Teal’c’s abdomen, just over where he’s pinning Teal’c down with his arm.

And when he’s got him right where he wants him, he sucks at his finger for long enough to get it wet and then goes questing behind Teal’c’s balls.

So really it’s all Cam’s fault that this thing progresses so far.

If Cam hadn’t been so shameless, if Cam hadn’t been so curious, if Cam wasn’t so goddamn self-destructive!

But he is, and they do.

It’s not many days later that SG-1 comes back from a mission with its collective tail between its legs. They all have a few cuts and bruises. Vala’s got a sprained wrist and that’s really the worst injury they’re carrying but it was not a pleasant situation. They’re all subdued and angry and feeling a little under-appreciated.

Cam’s shoulders are tight with tension, stress, responsibility, and he’s trying not to yell at Vala, whose going on and on about her wrist like it’s the end of the fucking world. He’s got a bitch of a headache and he just isn’t the mood for this shit. Not when he’s taken fire protecting his team and been terrified that he was not only going to die but was going to get the rest of them killed.

There’s silence in the room where they change, and Daniel makes himself scarce when Cam’s temper is so clearly showing itself.

They’re alone- as much as they ever can be in Cheyenne Mountain- when Teal’c says, “May I visit tonight, Colonel?”

“Not tonight,” Cam says immediately.

Teal’c’s jaw works for a second, as if he’s tasting the words before he says them. “It is not about what you want this time, Cameron. It is what I want.”

And Cam has nothing to say to that. He ends the conversation by shrugging and laughing- light and easy. “Do whatever you fucking want, man. I’m gonna watch the damn game and just not think.”

Teal’c leaves him alone in the locker room.

Cam thinks that that is it. He’s ended it for good.

Either that or they’re going to end up ‘talking’ about it which he really doesn’t want to do.

  1. Doesn’t want it to end just yet, though.    



He doesn’t have the luxury of working his stress out at Cheyenne Mountain, not when he’s officially still on duty. He’s got a debrief to attend, reports to type up, emails to answer, phone calls to make. There’s the latest databurst from Atlantis to go over if he really wants to take that last step into mental exhaustion. He doesn’t really know Sheppard but the guy writes the most boring reports Cam’s ever read.

It’s probably deliberate, he thinks. And most days that talent makes him grin.

This is not one of those days.

This is also the first day he gets fucked.

Teal’c’s waiting on his doorstep when he gets back from his run, leaning against the wall beside the door and just... there. Solid and immovable.

They are friends and team mates, and Cam won’t turn him away into the night without extending at least one lukewarm offer of hospitality. Teal’c knows that, the bastard, so Cam doesn’t feel any need to pretend he’s thrilled about the visit.

Except.

Except his brain is flooding with endorphins and his limbs are already warm and heavy, muscles loose, and in the dying sunlight the tattoo on Teal’c’s brow is even more golden than Cam’s ever seen it.

He’s never touched it. Has no idea if he’s allowed to.

Cam leaves Teal’c on the couch while he showers and has a minor freak-out in the bedroom.

The thing is, this is exactly what he didn’t want to happen. This is something he can’t control. Perhaps never could.

Nothing has changed since he was in college, Cam realises. It’s the same old shit.

He goes out with the plug and the armband and nothing else, and lets Teal’c bend him over his own goddamn coffee table. So he can watch the game, Teal’c says, voice perfectly even, even considerate, but with the hint of anger just beneath it.

Cam closes his eyes and lets go. Falls hard and fast and loud, right there, scrabbling against the smooth wood for something to hold onto.

It’s been so long and Teal’c makes it so good. Better than that guy in the alleyway. Way, way better than painful college fumbling- Cam trying to be macho and tough and just take the pain because ‘sweet’ and ‘gentle’ didn’t fit into the rules.

Teal’c doesn’t know the rules.

Cam can only thank his Grandma’s god for that.

When they’re done, Cam looks up blearily at the TV screen and he can’t actually figure out who the hell is playing. He doesn’t care. Between the orgasm and the run, it feels like his bones have dissolved.

Teal’c eases out of him slowly. Too slowly. Too obviously.

Cam moans.

His legs feel like rubber but he needs another shower. He refuses to get his couch all dirty, even if he is going to get himself thrown out of the Air Force and possibly into hell. Once he’s dead, of course.

Maybe if he repents he’ll get time off for good behaviour but he’s pretty sure that’s not how his grandmother told it.

He scrubs himself clean but he can’t resist sliding his fingers around and in just once. Twice. Just to feel. The shiver that slides up his spine presses up against the base of his skull and he turns his face up to the spray of water and wishes his life was different.

Teal’c is waiting for him in his bedroom, sitting on his bed.

Cam is naked again, which is becoming a habit but this time he isn’t wearing the plug and the armband. He’s not even wearing his dogtags. He’s not wearing anything. Nothing at all. He’s never felt so naked in his life.

He’s never felt so raw.

Teal’c gestures him closer.

Cam goes cautiously, wondering if there’s another ‘present’ hidden in Teal’c’s pocket. He’s not sure how he feels about that. Another plug, maybe, or another armband. Maybe something completely different.

Teal’c surprises him.

The kiss is sweet and gentle, yes, but it’s also firm pressure.

Teal’c kisses him like there’s no reason not to. Like they’ve got every right to kiss. Like it doesn’t break every last, lingering rule in Cam’s head about what’s allowed and what’s not.

Cam goes quietly insane in the length of time it takes Teal’c to kiss him thoroughly, and by the time Teal’c is done with him, Cam doesn’t know how much longer he can hold up this bag of lies. Because it is a lie.

He’s been looking at Teal’c for a long time. Mostly curious, a lot proud, a little exasperated, but definitely attracted. So attracted.

He wouldn’t have done anything, of course. Wouldn’t have said anything. Wasn’t allowed to, didn’t want to. Can’t, won’t, didn’t- but it doesn’t matter, or it won’t matter if Teal’c keeps fucking kissing him like that.

“Is this allowed?” Teal’c asks softly.

Large, strong dark hands rub soothingly up and down Cam’s sides and Cam shivers. Sighs and leans his forehead against Teal’c’s.

He can feel the raised bumps of the tattoo against his skin and he shifts slightly, aching to nose at it, to lick it, kiss it.

He wants to, but if he does that... he doesn’t know where it would end.

“Yeah,” he hears himself say, “It’s fine. Whatever you want.”

He squeezes his eyes shut because now he can’t watch it. Can’t stand to see Teal’c look puzzled and a bit disturbed.

It was meant to be convenient, not a gigantic love affair.

Teal’c pulls him closer, closer still, and Cam’s straddling Teal’c’s lap, knees on the bed, tonguing at the golden tattoo like it’s entirely possible that they might be young enough to get hard again like a pair of horny teenagers.

They can’t. He knows that.

Well, _he_ can’t.

Teal’c gets there, once Cam’s kneeling on the floor, sucking like there’s nothing else in the world he really wants more than Teal’c’s dick. 

Cam’s hip is aching again, and Teal’c shoves him carefully into bed and curls up behind him like this whole night has been perfectly natural.

Cam startles when Teal’c’s hand starts to fondle his cock.

“Shit,” he swears, and “You know, no matter how hard you pull, that’s not gonna get bigger. Not tonight.”

Teal’c’s chuckle in his ear is low and rich and Cam’s stomach flips.

In the morning he sits on his bed and watches Teal’c dress and he says, “You seem like you know what you’re doing.”

Teal’c raises a brow at him.

“I mean the sex part. You seem... comfortable. With that.”

“The mechanics are not unknown to me, no,” Teal’c agrees ironically.

“Yeah.” Cam rubs his ear, just for something to do.

“You have a question, Cam?”

Cam has a question. “You had a wife,” he says, staring intently at the sheets.

“My wife is as much my business as your previous relationships are yours,” Teal’c says bluntly, “I do not ask.”

Cam flinches.

“Yeah,” he says, “And I don’t tell. Got it.”

“I did not mean that.”

“Let’s just forget it. We don’t have to talk about this.”

“Cam,” Teal’c says, “I meant that we have our histories with other people. It is right that they remain in the past.”

It’s not an unreasonable request. So Cam concedes the point and follows Teal’c’s example. It’s also exactly what he asked for in the first place. It’s not fair to complain about it now.

In the hour of silence between Teal’c leaving and his need to start the day, Cam sits down to really think about what it is he expects from this thing.

What he expects is that this will continue in more or less the same way it’s started. He’ll let Teal’c do whatever it is Teal’c feels like doing, mostly because he won’t say ‘more’ in the same way that he can’t say ‘no’.

Which is where the conflict comes in.

Because what he _wants_ is to say ‘more’.

Cam hangs his head in despair and clenches his fists tight as he can. His nails dig at his palms but there’s no help from that quarter.

He _wants_.

And that’s dangerous. Especially when he has no idea what Teal’c wants out of this.

Cam goes from cowardly hiding in his office to glaring angrily at people during a routine training session.

He doesn’t spar with Teal’c. Never really has, though Teal’c has taught him a few hand-to-hand combat moves. Now they’re both in the same room, and he can see Teal’c out of the corner of his eye. At one point they’re so close he could reach out and touch him.

But he ignores him.

Hard enough that Teal’c traps him outside in the corridor, crowds him subtly against the wall and says, “Colonel Mitchell, do we have a problem we should discuss?” very quietly.

Cam grits his teeth for the wave of anger and lust and want to abate and then unlocks his jaw. “My place,” he replies, “This evening.”

He doesn’t bother to keep his voice down. They’re in an empty corridor and the security cameras don’t capture sound.

Plus they’re on the same team. The times without number that Cam has trusted Teal’c to have his six and been trusted in return mean that they’re close. People know they’re close. Even if it’s not meant to be hearts and flowers and fucking in Cam’s living room, sleeping in Cam’s bed, they’re allowed a certain leeway on how tight-knit a team can be.

The upshot is that Cam realises that, in all probability, no one cares. No one’s looking.

Daniel is myopic and Sam is distracted and Vala’s always been more interested in Jackson than anyone else. Landry’s got fourteen other teams to watch out for, plus a whole damn top secret military base with High Command from Washington breathing down his neck. The scientists don’t care and the grunts tend to give a Colonel a wide berth.

He can have this, he thinks. Even if it’s only for long enough to have Teal’c frown at him in puzzled, resigned disapproval and firmly correct his stupid, stupid plan for some sort of big gay love affair.

Cam spares one last thought for his family, and a part of him hopes that the sooner he has this conversation with Teal’c, the sooner it will end, the less of a worry he will be to his parents. His father is his grandmother’s son, and his father is a good man but his father is also military, is also conservative, is also so many things that make this dangerous.

When Teal’c arrives on his doorstep that evening, Cam is waiting.

He shuts the front door and locks it, and he leans against it and he’s made sure that he isn’t wearing the plug or the armband. He’s left them on a table nearby in case he needs to return them. He’s even made sure to clean the plug in boiling water and alcohol. Just in case. Just because.

Teal’c is tense.

Cam’s seen the Jaffa on enough missions to know that but even so there is no urgency in the way that Teal’c moves, no hurry in the way that Teal’c lifts his brows slightly and waits with polite silence for Cam to begin.

“I guess,” Cam says, “We need to have a little talk. About whatever it is that’s going on here.”

Teal’c pauses. But his gaze doesn’t drop. He doesn’t blush. Doesn’t even twitch a muscle. “I see. You did not want to speak of this before.”

“I changed my mind. Look, man, this is... this is new to me. I don’t know what the hell’s going on. I don’t know why you’re doing this, or why it’s me. I don’t even know what this is.”

“I had thought this was to be a matter of convenience for the both of us,” Teal’c says slowly.

But something about his words makes Cam’s eyes narrow. “You thought? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Cam,” Teal’c says bluntly, “You asked that it remain a matter of convenience. I agreed to your terms.”

“My terms,” Cam echoes in disbelief.

“Yes. Your terms. If you have changed your mind we can revisit the issue but as it stands, I will not push for more than you are comfortable with.”

“Oh.”

Teal’c’s lips soften and twitch. “Indeed.”

Cam stares at the tiles underfoot, wondering how to phrase it.

He doesn’t notice Teal’c stepping forward until Teal’c has already moved two feet, until he has covered half the distance between them and has stopped a tantalising three feet away. Almost close enough for Cam to reach out and touch.

“Have you changed your mind?” Teal’c asks.

Cam shivers.

Teal’c’s voice is low and hot, smooth, and Cam knows he has begun to react long before Teal’c even starts to smile, starts to move forward again.

Cam knows it, and he says, “Hang on. We’re not done yet.”

Teal’c stops abruptly, his smile slipping away, but he gazes back enquiringly.

“Why all that?”

Teal’c looks around to where Cam’s chin has indicated.

“You get off on that kind of thing. What made you think I’d like that?”

“Are you saying that you do not?”

“I’m saying I never did it before. Hell, I never knew anyone did.”

“I had suspected that,” Teal’c says.

“But you did it anyway.”

Teal’c opens his mouth and then, suddenly, stops. He stops short and looks slightly away, and then he closes his mouth as if he’s thought better of the words in his head.

When he does speak, his tone is stiff. Defensive. “You do not present yourself.”

“Excuse me?”

“You do not make yourself stand out,” Teal’c elaborates, “You wear no jewellery, no colourful clothing. Your military requires you to forget that your body is your own, and you are a good soldier, Colonel Mitchell.”

Cam blinks, unsure of how- exactly- to take that.

“When the Goa’uld enslaved my people, we had much in common with those who use ornamentation as a display of their power. We do not do so now that we are a free people, but there are times...”

Cam is conscious of that level stare burning into his skin.

“So it’s like a military fetish?” Cam manages, and the break in the silence is all it takes to loosen his tongue, “Please tell me you guys did not wear those plugs when you fought battles.”

Teal’c actually smiles. Unexpectedly. And he drops his head as he does it as if he doesn’t quite believe he finds the image as disturbing and funny as he does.

“No,” he says, “We did not.”

“So what?” Cam urges, “I get the armband. I mean, Earth kids like to wear those things to look tough and with arms like yours, I get how it’s military. But those plug things do not fit what you’re saying.”

“The pins,” Teal’c says acerbically, “Are not military. But they were pleasure tools.”

Cam’s mouth goes dry. “Oh.”

“Indeed.”

“You guys had pleasure... what, slaves? Servants?” Cam frowns. “You want me to play a pleasure slave?”

Teal’c rubs at that spot above his nose, the way he does when he’s dealing with Vala or someone else being particularly obtuse. “No,” he answers shortly.

“Then where does it come from? And why me? That’s what I want to know! Why me? Why not- I don’t know- Jackson? O’Neill?”

Teal’c gets an odd look on his face. “I had not considered General O’Neill as a partner before. Or Daniel. I prefer not to.”

“Fine. Look, that’s not the point.”

“The point,” Teal’c interrupts smoothly, “Is that I find myself attracted to you. To the way you are when you present yourself.”

“So it’s just a thing.”

“Does it have to be more than a thing?”

“That depends,” Cam snaps, “On what your definition of ‘thing’ is.”

Teal’c’s jaw tightens. And then he breathes out nice and slow. “Very well. On what definition of ‘thing’ would you like to base this?”

Cam opens his mouth. He wants to say ‘that doesn’t answer my question’ and ‘why me, dammit, why am I doing all the work’ and ‘thing means no strings’. Instead he says, “I don’t know,” and leaves it there.

His arms drop loosely to his side and he’s just standing there, in faded jeans and worn-down tshirt, waiting for some kind of inspiration from heaven to tell him what he’s supposed to do about everything.

Completely unadorned.

But Teal’c looks at him like maybe that doesn’t matter so much as Cam thought it would.

The silence starts to grow again and that’s when Teal’c moves.

Not to Cam, but to the jewellery. Picks up the armband, the two plugs, and weighs them on the palm of one broad hand, and then he comes to Cam.

The fingers of his other hand slip under Cam’s shirt, touch bare flank and skin that’s hot with anticipation. And Cam doesn’t question it, just makes his choice and shucks his shirt, holds out his right arm, and watches Teal’c’s lowered eyes.

The band around his bicep is tight enough to feel the constant presence. To feel the blood thrum just below the surface.

When Teal’c looks up, Cam meets his gaze with a slightly defensive tilt of his chin. If Teal’c notices, he doesn’t respond. Just offers up the two plugs still left on his palm.

“You may choose,” Teal’c says, as if Cam hasn’t been making choices for the last two months.

Cam hesitates before he taps the first one he was ever given. “You didn’t steal that from that merchant, right?”

“No.” Teal’c’s voice is close and low. “I bought it.”

“For me.”

It’s not a question, but he gets an inclination of the head anyway.

Cam taps the snake, his favourite, and he cants his hips just so as Teal’c unbuttons his jeans and pushes them down just enough to take a hold.

He bites his lip as the ring twists under the head, sighing as the tail presses in.

It looks exactly as obscene as it always does, at least to his eyes, but Teal’c rubs his thumb almost gently against the band of metal on skin.

Leans forward and as kisses go, Cam’s pretty happy with this one.

Of course, he realises, at the back of his mind, that the conversation hasn’t given him any more answers than he started with, apart from how he is central to this whatever-it-is, as opposed to just being along for the ride.

“We still can’t tell anyone,” Cam says.

“I am aware of your military’s limitations.”

“Not even the rest of the team.”

“I understand.”

“And it can’t affect the missions.”

“Agreed.”

“I’m not actually gay,” Cam says.

Teal’c regards him gravely and says, “No one could accuse you of being happy, Colonel Mitchell,” he agrees.

And Cam’s eyes pop for a moment before he catches the twitch at the corners of Teal’c’s mouth. And then the laughter wells up. It begins in fits and starts, dragging up from his lungs, slowly getting louder until he’s half crying with it, holding on to Teal’c’s shoulders for support.

Teal’c lets him work through whatever was in his system, smiling indulgently at him before leaning in to kiss him again.

Cam opens his mouth this time, drives his tongue into Teal’c’s mouth and thinks, ‘fuck it’.

Hours later, when they’re sprawled in his bed, Cam smacks Teal’c lightly in the shoulder and says, “So, if you could, I mean if I say yes, what else would you make me wear?”

Teal’c shifts a little, and Cam feels the dip in the mattress, the pull of the sheets.

“There is a ring,” Teal’c rumbles, “That would go here.”

Hot, long fingers just on the right side of thick circle Cam’s cock at the base. Cam’s groans softly at the feel of them, and the thought of what Teal’c means.

“There are other ornaments, but they would be far more permanent.”

“Like what?”

The mattress shifts against.

Teal’c’s mouth and the fingers of one hands descend to Cam’s chest. “Here,” Teal’c whispers, and sucks a nipple into his mouth. ‘Here’, he intimates, and pinches the other.

Cam arches just slightly. “Yeah,” he breathes out, and, “What else?”

The fingers and mouth let go, the hand reaching up to brush against the lobe of his ear. “Perhaps here. And of course, there is one more temporary ornament, but it would far more... sexual.”

Cam opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling. “Teal’c, you’ve stuck things in my dick, fucked my ass, and you just sucked my damn nipples. I think we passed sexual a while ago.”

Teal’c’s huff of laughter is followed by the press of fingers where Cam is still loose and relaxed, wet with spilled semen.

“There are objects,” Teal’c says, “Made so that part of it is placed inside of you, and part is outside. Decorative objects- jewelled or carved; made to be seen while they fill you.”

Cam thinks he may very well have either swallowed his tongue or forgotten how to breathe. One of the two. The thought of what Teal’c is implying is not unknown. His previous excursion into penis plugs on the internet listed other objects, just like the Jaffa describes them. Made to be seen, and made to fill.

He tries to imagine wearing one of those but his gut clenches and he’s too old to get hard so quickly off the back of that thought but his body’s making a determined effort.

And just when he thinks he can’t get any more turned on, Teal’c says, “Of course, we are still only speaking of what I want from you. You have not yet told me what you want from me.”

Cam decides he will definitely spontaneously combust. The only question is whether it will happen before or after sex.

 


End file.
